The Last Heir of Gryffindor
by hiraetheart
Summary: All four Houses fell from grace, losinng their sway or simply having the direct male line die out, all except the Gryffindors. Aeliana, the youngest female heir, thought she had enough to deal with, having befriended the biggest batch of troublemakers ever, eapecially the eternal thorn in her side, Sirius, until Voldemort murders nearly her entire family and she vows revenge.
1. Prologue

**A/N**

 **This first chapter is based on the chapter in the order of the pheonix where Ron is thrown his prefect celebration. The rest of the book follows, not harry, but Sirius and the main protagonist. This just sets up the flashback to the main story. Without further ado, enjoy!**

 _Harry Potter and the Goblet Of Fire_

Only when Moody had left did Harry realise he hadn't mentioned anything of the three individuals in the very center of the photo, two wizards and a scowling witch. It was surprising, as something about them seemed to draw the eye, but whether it was just their placement within the picture or an innate quality in the air around them, Harry couldn't be sure.

Even though nothing about the photograph thus far had struck Harry as "neat," as Moody had put it, he found he wanted to know about those three, if only because Moody had glossed over their presence with his magical eye like they'd never existed. It certainly didn't seem like Moody to shy away from anything, nor make such an obvious mistake.

Harry peered over the clusters of Weasleys. Fred and George trailed tragically around in all black, dogging Ron's footsteps and talking in raised voices about him as if he were dead and singing funeral hymns. Moody was nowhere to be found. Finally, his eyes landed on Sirius and Remus drinking copious amount of firewhisky in the corner, and he decided to settle. Surely they'd know the answer, too.

"Sirius?" Harry asked his godfather, striding up to them with the picture clutched tightly between his fingers. "Moody gave me this and I was wondering if you might explain something about the people in the middle."

Sirius, and Remus over his shoulder, looked over the photo with great interest. When he saw the wizard Harry indicated, the oldest of the two, a handsome man who appeared to be in his mid to late twenties, a flicker of something like caution flashed across Remus' eyes. Sirius, on the other hand, gazed at the man, transfixed.

"I'm not surprised old Mad Eye neglected to mention him," Sirius finally managed, tearing his eyes away. "People don't like to talk about him, or the rest of his family, for that matter."

"Who is he?"

Sirius hesitated. "Caius. Caius Gryffindor."

"You mean he was in Gryffindor, right?" Harry reiterated, growing more puzzled by the strange way Sirius was behaving by the second.

Sirius barked out a laugh that was strangely devoid of warmth. "Yeah, I reckon he was in Gryffindor. What else could he possibly have been in?"

Remus shook his head, sensing Harry's confusion, and answered as if Sirius hadn't spoken. "Yes... and no. He was certainly in Gryffindor, but he was, in fact, the direct descendent of the Hogwarts cofounder, and shared his same last name."

"They're still around?" Harry was floored, feeling oddly betrayed by the new surge of information. How could he have been in Gryffindor for what would be his fifth year and not have heard about the surviving line of his own House's founder? "Why have I never heard anyone mention him before?"

"Was around," Sirius corrected. "Theirs was one of the many lines that died out during the last great wizarding war." He paused, adding softly, "Caius died only few days after this picture was taken."

"You knew him, then?"

"Not well," Sirius said slowly. "He was already graduated by the time we entered our second year. I was friends with his sister." He pointed to the scowling girl, who was batting away the hands of the third person Moody had failed to mention, while her brother looked on with a benign smile gracing his lips. "Aeliana."

The way he murmured her name made Harry realize it wasn't Caius Gryffindor his godfather had been so transfixed with when he'd seen the photograph.

"She was in our year, and that's her brother, Godric," Remus explained, indicating the third fellow.

Harry would never have guessed they were related were he not told. Caius had wavy chocolate colored hair to compliment his naturally tan skin, while Aeliana was his foil with impossibly straight blond hair and skin like parchment. Godric seemed to be a mixture of the two, except with an impish grin. Only upon closer inspection did Harry finally realise they all shared the same shade of blue eyes, like wild bluebells.

"Why does nobody like to talk about them?" Harry asked after a few moments.

"I suppose at some point after I was carted off to Azkaban it became a taboo subject. Wizards, when it counts, like to forget unfortunate truths and hide from painful pasts, like how people refuse to call He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Voldemort. People would rather forget what happened to Lia and her family."

"But why?"

Remus took the picture out of Sirius' hands and gave it back to Harry without looking at it. "There are no wizard kings, Harry, as I'm sure you know, but the Gryffindor family was as close to royalty or nobility as we've ever had. Far richer and more influential than even the Malfoys, people looked to them for protection and guidance. If they said they lost faith in the Ministry, there would be a complete overhaul of our entire government. Their children were treated like celebrities, much like you are, Harry."

"Lia loved the attention," Sirius cut in sarcastically.

Remus gave his friend a wry look. "She most certainly did not. That was part of the reason we discovered so many secret passage ways through Hogwarts, so she could get from class to class unbothered."

Sirius grinned fondly at the memory. "She definitely had a reputation for being an unabashed fame seeker, though. As soon as people thought she loved the fame, they got over her real quick. No one likes to listen to a pretentious prick going on about how wonderful they are. It takes away from the mystique."

Harry got a sharp mental image of Gildedoy Lockhart and couldn't help but think that Aeliana Gryffindor might have been on to something. Nothing inoculated Lockhart fans faster than actually meeting him.

"The Gryffindor's were notorious for churning out one genius after another, although," Remus pondered thoughtfully, "I'm not sure if that was more a result of them winning the genetic lottery time and time again or the spirit crushing expectations and training they placed on their children."

"The Gryffindor Curse is what Aeliana called it," said Sirius, looking as though he thought the notion was amusing. "She swore the Sorting Hat "cruelly" placed her in Gryffindor, despite her pleas to be put in Hufflepuff."

"Why would she have wanted to be in Hufflepuff?"

"Lia was all about trying to prove a point. She wanted to test whether the hat was biased in placing all her relatives in Gryffindor solely because they shared his blood, and swore that she proved it when he refused to go along with her wishes, but it wouldn't have worked anyway."

"Why not?"

"She may have been going through an ongoing House identity crisis," Remus began, "but she really was a true Gryffindor at heart."

Harry wasn't liking all this past tense.

"What happened to her?" he said tentatively, fearing the answer.

Remus looked away, watching the Weasley's celebrate Ron and Hermione's new prefect status'.

Taking a weary breath, Sirius cautioned, "It's a long story, Harry. I'd have to start at the very beginning for it to make sense, and even then, I'm not sure about some of the details."

"Where does it begin?" Harry prompted, not one to be deterred.

Sighing, is if to say, " _Well, you asked for it_ ," he began.

"The 22 of May, 1977. The day Lia lost whole the world... The day of the Gryffindor family massacre."


	2. I

"What are you- Sirius, get off of him!"

Hands- not just my own, but James', and Lilly's and even Peter's, shot forward to anchor Sirius back. I let go almost immediately' running instead to Remus' side and helping him up.

I fought the urge to cringe when I batted away his his arms covering his face only to find a stream of blood gushing out his nose.

"Stop. Squirming." I ordered sternly, raising my wand to the bridge of his nose. "Episky."

It righted itself with a painful crack before Remus could begin to protest, but he took it without complaint.

"Thanks," he murmured, gingerly tracing fixed his nose.

He refused to look at Sirius, who was still being held back as a precaution, despite having backed up several paces of his own accord. I had no such problem.

"What the hell is your problem?" I demanded, planting myself before him. "You better have one mind-shattering excuse for hitting Remus, or, I swear, you and him are going to have matching bloodstains down the front of your robes."

Sensing impending conflict, my brother sidled up behind me and grabbed hold of my wand arm. "Far be it for me to tell you to back off from a fight, sis, but, well, there are teachers headed this way."

"I'm sure our Father would forgive me for getting detention, just this once," I grumbled, shaking him off.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he sighed, backing away down the Gryffindor longtable. "And don't expect me to help you when Father gives you the lecture of a lifetime. Merlin knows how often I've had to sit through one of those."

"Really, 'Liana," Remus said, rising unsteadily to his feet. "It's alright. Let's just go before McGonagall skewers us physically the same way she's already piercing us with her gaze."

"It's not alright," I snapped. "You deserve an explanation, but, for once in his life, Sirius is being oddly quiet."

I turned back to Sirius in order to glower at him properly.

"C'mon, mate, even you must realize that was out of order," James said lowly.

Sirius wasn't listening. "Why do you always take his side?"

"Because, last I checked, he didn't storm up to you and hit you for no reason!" I took a breath to calm down, to force myself to be reasonable. Grudgingly, I turned to Remus and tugged on his sleeve. "We should get the nurse to take a look at you, just in case. My skills definitely are no replacement for hers."

Remus, who seemed little more than slightly annoyed and amused it being attacked by his friend, shrugged. "That would probably be for the best."

At first, I couldn't tell what he found so funny, until I spotted the thunderous expression on McGonagall's face as she swept past students with her eyes narrowed, fixed on Sirius.

III

"I almost wish we could have seen what she did to him," I said regretfully. "I wonder what his detention will be. I hope it's brutal."

Remus swung his legs back and forth on the hospital bed, a nervous tick at being in the hospital wing when it wasn't his time of the month, so to speak. Madam Pomfrey was three beds over, busy tending to a bespectacled girl suffering from what I could only presumed to be a potion accident that caused her to sprout thick, pink fur from her ears. It was almost cute, like a cat.

"Don't be so hard on him," he said smiling wryly. "Besides, I'm sure McGonagall wouldn't give him anything too…draconian."

"I know," I pouted. "But a girl can hope, can't she? Personally, I'd elect for laps around the lake with the squid. Or some quality time with Filch and his manacles."

Remus snorted. "It was only a single punch, 'Liana. I don't think torture as a punishment quite fits the crime."

"Maybe not," I sighed sadly. "But, then again, based on his past exposure and re-exposure with detention, I don't think traditional punishments are enough to permeate into his thick skull, do you?"

"Uh, you may have a point there," he conceded, leaning away. "But remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Unfortunately, I've known him longer than you have, and he's been on my bad side virtually the entire time. You'll have to try a little harder to cement yourself on my bad side the way he has."

"Poor, poor Sirius," he said emphatically. He glanced back at Madam Pomfrey, still busy tending to the other patient. "Maybe we should just go. You already patched me up, and I trust your skill enough to think I'm not going to drop dead anytime soon."

"A broken nose wouldn't have killed you," I reminded him skeptically.

"I know that, but who knows. Improper spell work on your part might have."

He had the nerve to shrug with angel-like innocence.

"I'll show you improper spell work-"

All of a sudden, the hospital doors slammed open and Sirius burst through in a full sprint, his hair and robes flying behind him. Before the doors made their arc back closed, I spotted Caius running down the corridor toward us as well. If I wasn't very much mistaken, at the last second McGonagall turned the corner at a brisk pace.

"Where's the fire?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised.

Sirius fought for breath and eventually found it, only, when his gaze met mine he looked at an utter loss of words. His mouth bobbed open and shut, yet nothing came out. Finally, the door flew open again and my brother stumbled in, pale as parchment. His steps were dogged as he made his way closer. I didn't need to notice his red-rimmed eyes or the track-lines running down his cheeks to know something was wrong. Very wrong.

So, like the verbal genius I was, I asked, "Caius, what's wrong?"

"Lia…" he whispered, his voice thick.

Caius shook his head, unable to continue. His arms closed in around me and pulled me into a weak embrace. He was two years younger, but if judging us by our height, one wouldn't know it. He'd slowly crept up on me until, finally, I found myself having to look up into his eyes, if only a little. Before I knew it, I was using all my strength to hold him up and could feel his body racked with sobs, shaking my own.

I looked back up to Sirius, letting my confusion show on my face.

He cleared his throat and came closer. For the first time, I noticed the rumpled copy of the Prophet clenched in between his fingers.

"There's been another attack," he said, choosing his words carefully. Voldemort, the Death Eaters, they murdered…"

Again, words seemed to evade him, and I could see real pain in his dark eyes when he watched me. With words not forthcoming, he thrust forward the battered newspaper so that I could see the front page.

I noticed the large black and white picture first and my first thought was _That's my house_. My brain was slow to connect my home, Gryffindor Manor, with the massive skull scarring the backdrop of the sky in the background.

The Dark Mark.

But what was it doing their. That would have to mean…

My eyes caught on the headline, in bold lettering:

 _GRYFFINDOR FAMILY MASSACRE: FIFTEEN BODIES FOUND. NO SURVIVORS_.

"Bodies?" I looked back up to Sirius, before realising no words had actually left my mouth. I tried again. "Sirius, what does this mean? I don't understand… I don't understand…"

Distantly, I noted the arrival Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore and Slughorn and- and it didn't matter. All that mattered was the ground and the way it quaked and rose up to meet me. Sirius lurched forward to attempt to catch either myself or Caius, who was sinking to the ground with me since he'd long since started relying on me entirely for support. Our combined weight sent Sirius crashing to the floor with us.

My brain seemed to be working at half speed, a beat out of sync with the rest of the world. It was the same dim, foggy feeling as I'd feel when I used to ask Madam Pomfrey for a Sleeping Drought to cope with my chronic nightmares, like pushing my way through a room packed with cotton while the thick clouds pressed onto my face, suffocating me.

The numbness didn't fade, nor did the sense of foreboding, but eventually the cogs in my brain realigned and everything sped up.

I looked up at Sirius, a few feet in front of me at eye level and asked hollowly, "Whose bodies?"

Sirius didn't answer immediately.

"WHOSE BODIES?" I let go of Caius and lunged for Sirius, bunching his robes in my fists. I pulled him so close that our noses nearly touched and I could see the flecks of gold shining like lights in his shadowy eyes.

Distantly, I noted how Professor McGonagall made to intervene, before Dumbledore haulted her with a weathered hand.

"There were some Death Eaters," Sirius said softly, as if displaying the good news to try and soften me up before the bad. "And every- everyone in your family beside you two."

I instinctively waited for Caius to refute him- _it was absurd_!- but he didn't. He squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to stem the flow of tears and looked away when that didn't work so that I wouldn't see.

"Our father and mother and brother- and everyone- can't just be dead," I insisted, crawling backwards on my hands away from Sirius and my brother, facing them all the while. I didn't even notice myself releasing him.

In my haste, I forgot about the metal framed hospital bed creeping up behind me until I backed my head into it hard enough to leave a sharp ringing in my ears. Remus scrambled to lift me back up by the shoulders.

I continued on, hardly noticing the pain. "Father is too powerful to be killed, even by Voldemort. Ric, too. The couldn't kill him, They just couldn't have…"

"They're gone," Cauis choked out. " _Gone_ , Lia. You saw the article. They're not coming back!"

I could hear the underlying message in his words: Please. Just accept it. Don't make this harder than it already is.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in my nature to just "accept" anything. I was the most contrary person I knew.

I turned to the Headmaster, forced my voice steady, and met his eyes. "I need to see it for myself. I need to go home."


	3. II

"I'm coming," Sirius said, keeping stride with me as I followed a step behind Dumbledore on the way to his office.

"You're not." I replied, not looking at him.

"I am, though," Caius shouted, running to catch up with us.

"You're definitely not." I repeated, more stern.

"They're my family, too. I have just as much right to go as you!"

"Over my dead body.."

Perhaps not the best choice of words.

I didn't want to believe they were all dead, but, if it was true, I wasn't about to let him see the aftermath. I was at least thinking rationally enough to know that.

"It's cute that you think you could stop BOTH of us." Sirius grinned, all charm.

I could tell the smile was a bit forced. He was trying to be strong for me, to provoke me so I could focus on something else.

"I bet you I could," I challenged, lacing each word with thinly veiled threat. "And I will."

"And we're here," he announced, ignoring me, walking backwards into Dumbledore's office with his arms spread wide.

"We're coming," Caius said, then frowned. "Well, I am. I don't know about him."

Impatient to get home and unwilling to waste any more time arguing, I bit the inside of my cheek and gave in. "Fine."

I pushed past Sirius into Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster stood grimly next to a grand fireplace, peering at me over half-moon spectacles. The stars in his eyes eyes seemed to have extinguished. .

"I'm going to ask you this one last time, Miss Gryffindor, Mister Gryffindor: are you positive this is what you wish to do? There's no telling what you might see."

"Albus, you simply can not let them do this," McGonagall stated, coming up behind me. "Outside of Hogwarts, they are not protected, and who's to say He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doesn't intend to- to finish what he started." She darted a look at my brother and I. "Wipe out the whole family."

"He'll certainly try," Dumbledore agreed, "but it would be foolish for him to return to Gryffindor Manor at present. There are currently far too many Aurors."

"Many would have said that it would have be foolish of him to attack the Gryffindor's in their own home in the first place, " she countered crossly.

"I'm going, Professor," I cut in. "If you stop me here, I'll only find another way to get home."

Sirius shot me a meaningful look, no doubt already plotting the best escape route out of Hogwarts- perhaps through the Honeydukes passage.

"Then, step this way. I'm sure you know what to do," Dumbledore said, his hand resting on the mantelpiece.

I grabbed a fist full of floo powder from the pot he offered and stepped into the fireplace, while McGonagall looked on scornfully. I closed my eyes, knowing I might not like what I'd see when I next opened them.

" _Gryffindor Manor_."

The air changed immediately, emerald flames licked at my legs, my arms, pulling me through the Floo Network. I stepped out the grate into the foyer, but kept my eyes firmly shut. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe I could still turn back.

"What the hell is she doing here?" a voice growled, finally compelling me to open my eyes.

I knew that voice. Mad-Eye. If he was here, then-

I hardly recognized the place. It was complete chaos. Curtains ripped from the ceiling-high windows, the plush rug shredded into confetti across the floor, and the furniture appeared to have been smashed to bits against the walls.

Then there were the bodies.

I took an involuntary step back, straight into Sirius who'd Floo'd in behind me. He was surprisingly resolute when he looked at me, as though he were deliberately keeping his expression clear of all emotion. I couldn't believe Dumbledore actually let him come, but, then again, I couldn't believe a lot of the things Dumbledore did.

"Not the other brat, too," Moody barked, standing up straight and limping forward. "Are we running a daycare now?"

"Relax, Alistor," a round-faced witch said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Can you really blame them?"

"You're too soft, Alice.' He turned and trotted back, muttering, "They shouldn't be here."

I was still staring at what he'd originally been crouched over. I felt myself drifting closer, transfixed, until I was standing directly overhead. I knew what I was seeing, and yet…

"Father?" Caius fell to his knees at my side. I hadn't even noticed him enter the room.

I looked away. I couldn't bear to look into our father's vacant eyes, or the stiffness of his limbs, or the long tears in his fine ruby coloured robes, but, most of all, I couldn't bear to look at Caius, who was so open with his grief. I didn't know how to comfort others, especially since I was the type who hated to be comforted. I could feel myself already detaching from the situation. I wasn't here. This wasn't happening to me. Everyone needed to leave me alone, because I was fine.

I drifted away, past the grand staircase, over bodies of what I knew must be Death Eaters, and ended up outside, somehow. I didn't think I was searching until I finally found the one who I was looking for.

"Not you, too, Ric," I murmured, barely more than a whisper. "Anyone but you."

I couldn't bear to so much as look at any of the others, but I couldn't seem to rip my eyes away from my older brother. His body threatened to shatter the illusion I had built for myself. I was strong. I was alright. This this wasn't happening to me. Everything. Was. Okay. A pressure grew in my chest, like a hand wrapping itself around my heart and squeezing tight.

"It's not fair." My voice cracked. "How could you leave me, too?"

"You're disturbing the crime scene," a woman said, coming up behind me. I recognized her robes from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "You… you can't touch him."

She looked away guiltily. She appeared worse off than me, like she'd been crying. Why was she crying?

Why wasn't I?

"Why not?" I asked sharply. "It's not like we don't know who killed him.You're not very good at your job otherwise."

I focused my attention back on Godric. At one time, I'd been unbearably jealous of his eyes, a more brilliant blue than even Dumbledore's, like our father's, and his father's. I envied him for their beauty, but now they only stabbed daggers through my chest. That trait, that had been passed down in our family generation after generation, had finally met its inevitable end, because neither Caius nor I had inherited it.

I pulled his head onto my lap and ran a hand through his chocolate hair, catching on tangles. His unseeing eyes looked past me into the sky. He shook in my arms and it took a moment to realize it was because I was trembling.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"You can ask. I'll ignore you," I said, frustrated by the way my voice cracked.

If anything, I gripped my brother tighter.

Abruptly, they yanked me back. At least two pairs of hands grabbed at my elbows and my shoulders, until a third finally lifted me up at the waist. Try as I might, I couldn't maintain my hold on Godric any longer. I let him go, though not before I noticed something strange about his eyes.. They were banded with gold, like a ring lost in the ocean. It was all wrong. His eyes were only _blue._

"Let me go!" I yelled, reaching for my wand in my pocket. They kept such a firm grip over my limbs I couldn't get anywhere close.

Good thing, too, because in that moment I would have blown them all to smithereens to get s better look at Godric's eyes, and to give validation to the newfound hope burgeoning in my chest. Hope was destructive; it was terrible and cruel. Anyone who thought otherwise had obviously never felt the way I did, like the air was turning to ash in my lungs. Even though I carried the Gryffindor name, I didn't feel brave. I had never been more terrified in my life, terrified that I was wrong, terrified I had imagined the gold ring, and, above all, terrified I wouldn't be able to escape these men in order to do what needed to be done.

"I believe she told you to let go," Sirius drawled coldly.

He flicked his wand casually and the men holding me were thrust against the side of the house, slamming into it with their backs. More Ministry officials, sensing conflict, flooded outside, some coming to their colleagues aid, many drawing their wands on Sirius, and the rest resuming the effort to drag me back inside as I lunged again for my brother. This time, however, I was ready. I fired off spell after spell at any foolish enough to come close, until an Auror, Frank Longbottom, had enough sense to disarm me.

"Let me go! He's not dead!" I screeched, hysteria plain in my voice and growing more prevalent by the second. "He's not dead! He's not!"

"What's taking so long?" Moody growled. "They're just two wandless kids."

Unfortunately for them, I had nothing against more traditional, muggle methods of combat. When Mad-Eye stomped over on his wooden leg, growling obscenities under his breath, I only had enough time to look up and meet his fierce gaze before he fired off a Full Body-Bind Curse. At once, my limbs went rigid, at least as stiff as the corpses surrounding us, if not more so.

"What are you doing to my sister?" Caius demanded, framed in the doorway. "Touch her and I'll kill you!"

Moody's attention swayed toward the new intruder, just as my adrenaline surged, because Caius would understand, even if no one else did. I only needed to tell him. The Body-Bind shattered before the strength of my desperation and it's resultant surge of uncontrolled magic. Moody returned his attention back to me at exactly the wrong second. He turned and I planted a fist directly in the center of the veteran Auror's scarred face. The force of the blow surprised even me, propelling us both to the ground. Sirius, feeling inspired, took a leaf out of my book and threw himself indiscriminately at the first wizard within arms reach.

"Caius! His eyes! Check his eyes!"

There was a beat of silence, punctured only by the grunting and muffled cursing of a man I'd "accidentally" elbowed in the ribs.

Caius' breathing hitched as my meaning finally clicked. I could see the same excruciating hope in his expression I felt as he breathed, "No way."

He threw himself headlong into the thick of things with single minded focus. The chaos raging around him was inconsequential, almost like it didn't exist. He didn't blink when a hex flew just behind his left ear, brushing against the tangled waves of his hair, and he didn't flinch when a bearded wizard made a swipe for his arm. He didn't even seem to notice me tackling said wizard with my entire weight so he could dart by unscathed.

Blades of grass wound together, transfiguring into ropes, and rose up from behind me, wrapping themselves securely around my torso, and then my ankles and wrists, until all movement was but a fond memory. I battled my restraints, knowing full well how futile it was to continue struggling. My movements became sluggish and muted, my arms feeling like they were chained down by cinder blocks. Someone had obviously cast a spell to make it so I couldn't fight anymore. It became a monumental effort just to remain standing, to keep my eyes wide.

In the corner of my field of vision, Caius sprinted to Godric. Ten feet. Five feet. Three. Two. One. He dived down beside him, hands already reaching out..

A spine shattering force rammed into my back and before I knew it my face was being pressed against sharp gravel walkway. Purple robes moved in to block my view. I got the impression that their owner was speaking, though I couldn't hear her through ringing in my ears.

"Move," I slurred.

She raised her wand, seemingly in slow motion, but paused as the ground seemed to begin to quake beneath us, rocks and pebbles drifting into the air.

I knew this intoxicating feeling. I revelled in it. It was the great disgrace that my family couldn't explain away, try as they might. Sure I was wicked with a wand, but I oh-so-easily lost control of my magic without one. A nine year old having a temper tantrum had about as much control over their magic as I did, though I was far more volatile. My magic had grown and matured with age, becoming more destructive and out of my control with each passing year, especially when I lost my tether on my emotions.

Glass shards from shattered stained glass windows shot through the air like daggers, slicing into those too slow to cast a shielding charm. I was no exception. Rivulets of blood trickled down the cuts on my face, not that I felt them. I was too high off the rush of my magic.

Behind the witch, who'd retreated a step, I saw Cassius reach Godric and crash to his knees beside him.

" _Move_ ," I repeated, more forceful.

The weight on my back momentarily lifted, and then everything went black as an explosion of pain danced across the back of my head.


	4. III: Revenge is the Best Medicine

When I finally came to, I felt as though I'd been run over by the Hogwarts express. Everything hurt, from the tip of my toes to my throbbing temple. Thinking quickly became a chore, which was just as well, because I didn't want to think. The days events were just too horrible, too unbelievable.

My family was dead. My father was dead. My mother was dead. My brother-

I sat up so quickly I saw spots. My brother. Godric was still alive. He had to be. I needed to find him and-

A steady hand pressed me back down into a bed. "Calm down, Lia. It's alright."

I had never thought I could craive a voice before I heard my brother speak at that moment. As I drank him in, looking as he usually did, with the exceptions of deep shadows tattood beneath his eyes, I tried to find words, but they all failed me. How could I be so happy and so sad at the same time?

He seemed to understand. "Caius is a floor down talking to a medwitch. With any luck we'll be discharged before the day is out."

I took a closer look at our surroundings, at the curtains pulled in close around my bed, and realized we were in St. Mungos. Why was I in St. Mungos?

"The Auror who knocked you unconscious was a little too… enthusiastic," Godric said, correctly reading my confusion, as he always could. I didn't miss that flash of anger that briefly cut through his grief. "You lost control again, so they had to do it, but the longer you were out… Let's just say I was getting worried."

"I guess that secret is out," I finally managed, trying for lightness.

Godric chuckled humourlessly. "That isn't the least of it. The Ministry is all over me trying to force me to tell them the spell father used to fake my death, and consequently save my life. Technically, as it's been passed down in secret through our line, it's not Ministry approved, so they are threatening prison time if I don't comply."

"What do they plan on doing? Send our dead father to prison for casting a spell that saved you?" I said, mustering anger from deep within my core. It took some finding, dogging past an ocean of grief, but it was there.

"I don't think they've thought it all through," he admitted.

"What else is knew." We sat in silence for a few minutes, finding as much comfort in each other's company as we could. Godric looked haunted. I could see as much in his face, and I kept flashing back to the distant, blank expression I saw when I thought he was dead. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He smiled grimly and shook his head once. "No. I've already had to recount it all twice to the Ministry and once to Caius while you slept, but you deserve to know how your family died, so I'll drudge up the memories once more."

"No, don't," I objected quickly. "I'll ask Caius or I'll wait until it comes out in the Prophet. You shouldn't have to go through that again."

He patted my lag affectionately. "You are kind to try to spare me, Lia, but it's my duty to tell you."

Common words in our household. It's our duty to uphold the peace. It's our duty to vanquish Voldemort. It's our duty to guide the Wizarding World into better days. It's our duty to hide sacred knowledge from the world.

Our duty got most of my family killed.

Knowing the famed Gryffindor stubbornness, I let him proceed without further argument.

"It must have been about two in the morning when it happened. At first I didn't know what was going on, only that Birdy the House elf was shaking me awake. She was frantic, telling me there were intruders in black and our father sent her to wake up me and the others. I told her to get Aunt Marian's kids somewhere safe." Godric looked away, focusing on his hands. "She returned a second later. I… the kids…."

"You don't need to say," I whispered, understanding his grief all too well. "I already know."

They must have already been dead.

"Those cowards went after the children first. We were so disorganized, we didn't have time to regroup. They picked us off one by one until it was just me and Father left, not that they didn't take casualties. We must have taken out as many of them as they did us, unprepared and outnumbered as were, but then…"

His voice trailed off and I could see him replaying the scene in his head.

"Then?" I prompted.

"He showed up."

I nearly leapt out of my hospital bed in surprise, and my head snapped toward the door where Caius stood, solemnly watching us.

Godric nodded. "Yeah. Voldemort finally showed his face. At that point it was just myself and father. I think— maybe— we could have taken on the Death Eaters, but not them and their master. Their combined power was just too great. There was no time to retreat or Apparate away. We never would have made it, and Birdy had already been slaughtered. We were out of options."

He placed his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them like he desperately needed me to understand.

"I don't blame you, Godric," I promised, hoping he could hear the honestly in my words. "This isn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything else."

"I didn't know he was going to do it," he continued as though I hadn't spoken. "One second I was defending Father's back and the next I was collapsing from a spell to my own back. His spell, to save my life by making it look like I'd died. There was so much chaos, no one would have noticed the spell came from my ally instead of my enemy." His voice grew hoarse, like he'd swallowed sawdust. "Even though, to the rest of the world I was dead, I saw it all. I saw them kill our father and I could do nothing."

Caius moves to sit at the end of my bed, reiterating my statements. "She's right, Ric. If father hadn't done something, the only difference is that you would be dead, too. And where would that leave us?" He drew a hand between me and himself. "With her as the head of our family? I can't imagine anything more horrible. She's mean enough to me as it is!"

It was a joke, and a terrible one at that, but we all forced a chuckle to give the illusion of normalcy. I could almost deceive myself into believing this was any other day that way.

"You are lucky she insisted on looking at the bodies, though," Caius added, back to his earlier somber self. "I hadn't even considered that father would use that spell. I barely even remembered it existed before she started making a scene."

"I wasn't making a scene," I muttered.

"You kinda were," yet another voice cut in.

Sirius waited awkwardly by the doorway, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable at intruding on such a tender family moment. Immediately, I focused in on the deep purple bruise forming on his jaw.

"Why don't you get that healed?" I asked.

"What, this?" He pointed at the affected area and winked. "A badge of honor. I'll need proof of my heroic exploits in fending off a dozen ministry dogs at once when I had back to Hogwarts, you know."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

He shook his head. "Impossible. I'm sure that's not even the dumbest thing I've ever said."

This time, I found myself releasing a genuine laugh, and for some reason it hurt so much more than all the tears I'd shed in the past day.

"I mean it, though. Not everyone can claim they've punched old Mad-Eye and walked away to tell the tale. I might be the first."

Godric smiled in mild amusement, overshadowed by the cloud of sadness hanging around him. "You might be right about that."

"Wait," my brow furrowed in confusion, "I don't remember you punching Mad-Eye. I remember myself taking a go at him, but not you."

"You wouldn't, would you?" he said meaningfully. "Someone had to defend your honour when he knocked you out. It was my duty as a gentleman."

"I think you're laying on this hero thing a little thick, don't you?" I said wryly, sure he'd disagree.

He shrugged. "I think the results speak for themselves. Between the two of us we managed to create enough chaos to distract half of the most experienced witches and wizards in the Ministry so Caius could wake up your brother here. That's truly a resume to be proud of. James will be envious."

"Yeah," I replied noncomittally, my thoughts abruptly taking a detour.

If I could cripple half the Ministry with my antics, could I have changed the outcome of the attack if I'd only been home? Maybe my father would still be alive. My cousins and aunts and uncles, too. Things could have been so different.

I was going to make Voldemort pay for what he'd done to my family. I'd make him rue the day he thought to challenge us. What had I to lose? I'd trade in my grief for fury and bring honor to those lost if it was the last thing I ever did.


End file.
